


think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course

by green_tea31



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Episode: s02e12 Mac + Jack, Episode: s02e14 Mardi Gras Beads + Chair, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17565539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_tea31/pseuds/green_tea31
Summary: Mac isn’t sure what draws his gaze to the lonely table in the back but it’s like he’s unable to look away once he sees the single occupant of that table.The man is older than Mac, at least fifteen years, probably closer to twenty if Mac’s honest. He’s wearing a gaudy shirt, hair styled in a faux mohawk and looking around the place like he owns it. Warm brown eyes catch Mac’s blue ones for a moment and the man mockingly raises an eyebrow before obviously dismissing him and turning back to the rest of the patrons.(Update: Chapter Four, The one with no redeeming qualities whatsoever.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> This happened.  
> There's no underage in the fic, promise. If you want to know how far Jack and Mac go in this chapter, scroll down, I've included it in the end notes, so as not to spoil anything.  
> As for Mac's age, I have kind of given up on calculating anything given the writers' habit of changing it to fit their storylines, so I just take Lucas Till's birthday. Mac joined the Army in 2009, so 19.  
> Tried a new thing with the summary. For some reason, it always takes me ages to think of something. This is much easier, why didn't I do this before?
> 
> I've included some thoughts about George Eads leaving the show in the end notes. Normally, I would put this on tumblr but the general MacGyver fandom seems to be on the verge of the kind of conflict that had me leave the Stargate fandom way back before tumblr, so I plan on staying away from that until the situation has calmed down a bit. I'll still be there for the MacDalton though because you guys are kind of awesome. 
> 
> Self-betaed, all mistakes are my own. English is still not my first language. (May I never write reindeers instead of reindeer ever again.) 
> 
> Title taken from Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" because it's what I'm reading right now and I thought it fit the general idea of the story.

It’s late. Mac is tired and he really just wants to go back to the hotel and sleep for the rest of the night, but Frankie and Smitty are relentless, insisting they move on to the next bar. This little trip down to New Orleans was supposed to be their goodbye to him, one last night out on the town before he starts basic training, but now he regrets ever agreeing to it.

He’s not regretting his choice but he’d probably be happier back at MIT or even back in California, spending a quiet last few days with friends and family. He loves a good party but somehow this night feels more like a chore than a celebration.

Not to mention the underlying tension between the three of them. To say his friends hadn’t been happy when he told them he wanted to drop out of school to join the Army was an understatement and while they try to be supportive, Mac can feel that they don’t _understand_ why he’s done it.

Not that Mac entirely understands it himself.

“Mac, come on. That one looks nice, doesn’t it?” Frankie calls out to him, pointing at a cheerfully illuminated bar on the other side of the street. She grabs his arm with one hand and Smitty’s with the other and drags them both with her.

The bar is packed full of people, like the other three they’d gone to before this one. People are laughing, dancing to the live music and drinking more alcohol than is probably good for them. Everybody is having a good time and Mac feels like the odd one out, the only one who doesn’t want to be here.

Before he can fully take in everything, Frankie and Smitty abandon him at a table to organize them some drinks at the bar and Mac doesn’t know if he can stomach another beer when he sees _him_.

Mac isn’t sure what draws his gaze to the lonely table in the back but it’s like he’s unable to look away once he sees the single occupant of that table.

The man is older than Mac, at least fifteen years, probably closer to twenty if Mac’s honest. He’s wearing a gaudy shirt, hair styled in a faux mohawk and looking around the place like he owns it. Warm brown eyes catch Mac’s blue ones for a moment and the man mockingly raises an eyebrow before obviously dismissing him and turning back to the rest of the patrons.

Mac feels shame rising in him and he curses his fair complexion for blushing so easily. He’s rarely attracted to someone at first glance, normally he needs to build some kind of connection to someone before attraction even figures into the equation but there’s just something about this guy…

He chances another glance at the table in the back, but before he can find out if the guy is still there, Frankie slams a glass down in front of him with the same ruthless enthusiasm she normally reserves for malfunctioning equipment and recalcitrant professors.

“Drink up, boy genius. I got you your favourite.” She grins at him and plops down in the seat next to Mac while Smitty sits down on the other side of the table, blocking Mac’s view of the guy.

It’s probably better anyway. Mac’s barely legal as it is. He’s only in this bar because Frankie refused to take no for an answer and somehow acquired what Mac suspects is one of the best fake IDs out there, even if his first name for the duration of the night is now “Frank”.

Mac’s been too afraid to ask where she got it and when his conscience tries to tell him it’s all terribly illegal, Mac silences it with the same ruthlessness that had made him so dangerous to the health of Mission City’s citizens when he was younger.

He wishes Bozer was here but his oldest friend hadn’t been able to make it. The two of them had had their own private goodbye together with Harry and now all that was left was surviving this evening and starting basic training.

Because Mac went and joined the Army.

Before Mac realizes what happened it’s past midnight and he’s pleasantly buzzed and actually enjoying himself somewhat. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Frankie and Smitty are holding court at the pool table, proving that yes, understanding physics really does help you play the game and Mac is happy just watching them and listening to the – really good – music when he’s rudely interrupted.

“Hey pretty boy. You even legal enough to be here?” The words are slurred, there’s a guy standing in front of him, about as tall as Mac, shaggy brown hair and definitely a lot drunker than Mac is. The man drops into the seat next to Mac and leans in close.

“How’d you get in here, huh? Security’s pretty tight.” Mac isn’t sure if he’s being hit on pretty badly by a guy who is at least twice his age or if he’s about to be thrown out of the bar. He tries to get up but the guy grabs his arm and effectively corners him in his seat.

“Come on, pretty. I just wanna talk a little.”

“Get your hands off the kid and your ass out of the bar Dave. I thought I told you not to come back here until you learned some manners.” It’s the guy from the table, the one Mac had stared at earlier. He grabs “Dave” and forces him to get up while lazily dodging a sloppily thrown punch. Dave is handed over to a security guard that Mac hadn’t noticed and dragged towards the exit.

“Sorry about that, kid. We missed him coming in. Should have kept an eye out. Dave’s been known to make trouble.” The guy drops into the seat that is now empty, grinning at Mac, but his body language is open, non-threatening and Mac relaxes slightly.

“It’s alright. You noticed quickly enough. Is this your bar?” Mac asks, voice surprisingly steady. Now that the guy is closer, Mac can’t deny that he’s attracted to him. There’s something about that crooked smile paired with the vaguely southern drawl that isn’t quite New Orleans enough for the guy to actually be from around here.

Mac’s always had an ear for accents and languages. It helps that the guy’s voice sends shivers down his spine.

“Naw. I just keep an eye out for trouble. Duke Jacoby, nice to meet ya, kid. Now, the one thing Dave got right is you don’t nearly look old enough to be in here. And we’re pretty strict about those rules.” Jacoby is still grinning but there’s an edge to his voice that says Mac better be honest about this or he wouldn’t like the consequences. For some reason, Mac doesn’t even know why because this man is a stranger, Mac tells him the truth.

“You’re right. I’m only nineteen but I recently joined the Army and my friends thought I needed a last night to celebrate so they dragged me to New Orleans and now here I am. Also, I have a fake ID that’s very good because my friend is an overachiever who doesn’t know when to stop.”

Mac can tell he stunned Jacoby with that answer but then that stunned look is replaced by a chuckle which turns into a full belly laugh.

“Man, kid. I didn’t expect you to be _that_ honest. Shit. Old enough to get shot for your country but not old enough to drink. Same damn story every time.” Jacoby grins that damnable grin again, the one that makes Mac go weak at the knees and if he was standing right now he’d probably fall right over. Instead he just blushes and looks down at the table, hands fidgeting nervously and cursing his inability to function well in any kind of social setting.

“Aw, don’t get all shy on me now kid. Come on, if this is your last night of freedom before Uncle Sam comes calling you gotta enjoy life a little. Still…” Jacoby trails off while staring at Mac. He tries not to squirm in his seat. Jacoby’s eyes are intense and Mac feels as if the man is trying to get to his innermost secrets.

“Sorry kid. As much as I’d like to buy you another beer, I gotta be a responsible adult at least some of the time. You should get back to your hotel – assuming you have a hotel?” Jacoby asks him and all Mac feels is relief. He’s been enjoying himself but it’s late, he’s tired and he’s been kind of looking for an excuse to call it a night and now he has one.

Mac looks down at the table, absently noticing the various scratches and stains on the wooden surface. His mind tries to find a pattern in the chaos, bringing order to this little piece of the evening that feels like it’s spun out of control somewhere between his first and second, maybe third or fourth beer. Or he never had control at all, maybe he was doomed the moment Frankie pressed that false ID into his hand, manic grin on her face and a promise in her eyes that Mac hadn’t been entirely sure he’d wanted to see fulfilled.

And maybe he’s just had one beer too many and should go back to the hotel to sleep it off.

Decision made, he nods to himself and looks up at Jacoby who’s still regarding him with that intense, strangely patient expression.

“Yeah, you’re right man. Time to call it a night.” Mac grins at Jacoby and gets up, grabbing the table to steady himself when the room starts to spin for a moment.

“You’ll be alright getting home, kid?” Jacoby asks him while getting up himself. For a moment Mac has the strange feeling that the other man is hovering while trying to look like he’s not. The feeling passes.

Why would he even care if Mac makes it back safely?

“Yeah, don’t worry”, Mac tells him while he looks for Frankie and Smitty. They’re in the back, obviously having fun and Mac thinks that he’s probably going back alone. “Just have to tell my friends I’m leaving. And before you ask, they are old enough to be here don’t worry.” Mac makes his way towards his friends when Jacoby’s voice stops him.

“Hey kid. I never caught your name?”

He isn’t sure what makes him do it, given that Jacoby is a stranger he’s just met in a bar but there’s something about the man that makes Mac want to trust him.

“I’m…call me Mac.”

…

Jack steps out of the bar and takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the stale air from inside and _trying_ to enjoy what is going to be one of his last nights in the city of New Orleans.

He isn’t going to miss it.

Oh, he likes the city, no question, but of all the aliases the CIA ever made up for him, Duke Jacoby has to be his least favorite. The guy is a bastard of the highest calibre and in order to believably pull off his cover, Jack had to become that bastard.

Like all covers, Jacoby has left traces in Jack’s personality, in his soul really, that he isn’t sure will ever be erased.

Case in point, the kid he’s just met in the bar.

Jack isn’t shy in his attraction to both men and women when the cover calls for it. The company is a lot more lenient than the Army, but this was the first time since becoming Jacoby that Jack’s felt this kind of attraction as himself, Jack Dalton.

This wasn’t Duke Jacoby trying to find an advantage to seducing an innocent kid, this was Jack Dalton seeing a beautiful nineteen year old boy across the bar and nearly being floored by the strength of the instant attraction he’d felt.

Before Jacoby, Jack wouldn’t have looked twice, but he’s been living with Jacoby’s set of morals for long enough that they’re so tangled up with his own, Jack is going to have to do some serious spring cleaning when he gets out of this assignment.

Jack is abruptly pulled from his thoughts by a loud noise from across the street. It’s late – or early enough, depending on your point of view really, that even the streets of New Orleans have begun to clear up, leaving only a few stragglers to shakily make their way home from a night of partying too hard or partying just hard enough.

One of those is apparently the kid Jack thought he’d sent home hours earlier. Jack can just make out the blond hair as Mac stumbles out of the building directly across from him. Jack’s still floored, and a bit worried, that the kid has apparently given Jack his real name. Duke Jacoby is not a man that should inspire that kind of confidence.

The building had already been condemned when Jack first arrived in this city. Definitely not a place for innocent nineteen year old tourists. Jack makes his way over while the kid looks around the ground, looking for something.

Jack picks up the red Swiss Army Knife that’s right in front of him on the pavement.

“You’re looking for this kid?” he asks and watches amusedly as Mac nearly stumbles over himself in his haste to turn around. Somewhere out there is a drill sergeant who is going to have way too much fun with this one Jack thinks to himself.

“Mr Jacoby? What are you doing here? I mean…not that you shouldn’t be here. Across from the bar, where you work.” Jack grins and drops the knife into the kid’s hand.

“Relax kid. And call me Duke, will ya? Mr. Jacoby makes me sound like my old man. Like you said, I work here. Question is, what are you still doing here? Thought I’d sent you back to your hotel?” Jack asks, taking pity on the kid. Mac blushes and looks down at his shoes.

“Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to watch the stars but I needed someplace higher up”, he all but mumbles and looks towards the roof.

Putting aside the fact that that is one of the strangest things Jack’s ever heard, and he’s heard some real strange things, Mac looks forlorn and tired, as if he’s just noticed where he is.

Jack’s heart skips a beat.

Dammit.

“Look kid. I’ll walk you back to your hotel where you should try to get some actual sleep.” Jack tries to be encouraging. “Come on, which way?”

“You really don’t need to walk me home. I’m old enough to find my way, promise.” The kid tells him mulishly and Jack would call him out on it, but he’s tired and he wants to make sure the kid makes it back safely.

“Indulge an old man. Gonna sleep easier if I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere”, Jack says and he can almost see the thoughts spinning like crazy in the kid’s head.

“Fine. You’re kind of annoying you know? It’s that way. Not far from here actually”, Mac tells him and starts walking in the aforementioned direction, Jack at his heels, a dark shadow to the kid’s much brighter presence.

They’re silent for the first few minutes. Jack is almost as familiar with these streets now as he’d once been with the streets of his hometown in Texas. He can’t wait to go home, to slide back into his own comfortable drawl instead of the vaguely southern accent he’s had to adopt for his cover. Jack is very, very good at undercover, but one of the hardest things for him has always been leaving behind his native Texan persona to adopt something else.

“So, where are you actually from?” the kid suddenly asks and Jack just barely keeps himself from stopping in the street like a goddamn amateur. That is a question he hadn’t expected.

“What makes you think I’m not from around here?” Jack asks warily. He’s beginning to think the kid is much smarter than most would give him credit for at first glance.

“It’s the accent. You kind of _sound_ southern, but it’s just off enough that I think you’re not originally from here.” Shit. Jack’s gotta do some damage control. It’s unlikely that anything will ever come from this, but Jack has seen agents being compromised by miniscule details from assignments that had long since been over.

A cover is only ever as good as its weakest element and Jack just had to run into this kid who’s way too observant for his peace of mind.

“You some kind of language genius or what?” Jack asks him and he can see that something about the question has thrown the kid.

“Not language, no. I mean, I speak a few, but it’s not my field of expertise.”

_Field of expertise_ …oddly formal way to phrase a talent.

“I’m a student at M.I.T. actually, or I was.” The kid stops in front of a fairly cheap, but secure enough for Jack’s peace of mind hotel. “Guess I’m not anymore.” He sounds bewildered, as if this is the first time he’s realised that his life is about to undergo a fundamental change.

As if he isn’t sure he’s ready for that change.

“So you’re that kind of genius then.” Jack tells him and for some reason that statement is enough to bring a smile to the kid’s face.  

God, he’s beautiful and Jack feels like the worst kind of dirty old man there is, wanting him this much.

“Whatever that means.” Mac looks towards the ground and takes a deep breath.

“Look, please don’t hit me for this okay? I kind of wanted to do this since I first saw you and I’m probably about to get shot at and maybe even shot in the near future and I’m still just tipsy enough that the reasons against doing this don’t matter much right now.”

Before Jack can say anything, the kid has stepped close enough that Jack can feel his breath on his face and pressed his lips to Jack's in what’s just about the chastest kiss Jack has received since high school.

Much later, long after _you watch my back, I watch yours_ and _you go kaboom, I go kaboom_ , Jack will look back to this moment and realise that he never really had a choice at all.

This is where they begin.

_Even if it takes them years to admit it, being the stubborn oblivious idiots they are (Riley’s words, not his, while Bozer just grins knowingly in the background)._

Now though, Jack grabs Mac, one arm around the waist, the other hand tangled in that messy blond hair and turns the somewhat clumsy attempt at a kiss into the kind of dirty, might have to jack off later kiss that Jack’s envisioned since the first time the kid blushed at something Jack said.

He walks Mac back until the kid’s back hits the door. One of Jack’s thighs slips between Mac’s and he can feel the hardness there pressing against him.

Jack wants nothing more than to take this beautiful boy up to his room and not let him leave until he has to leave New Orleans but there are a few lines he isn’t ready to cross, even though Duke Jacoby would have happily jumped over them with a dirty grin.

Mac moans into Jack’s mouth, trying to find friction against Jack’s thigh and that’s enough for Jack to come back to himself and pull back.

The kid’s eyes are wild, pupils dilated with arousal and he’s panting heavily.

“What?” Mac asks bewildered. Jack takes a step back but keeps his hand in the kid’s hair, tilting Mac’s head to look at Jack.

“There’s nothing I’d like more than to take you up to your room and do all kinds of unspeakable things to you but that’s a line even I’m not gonna cross, kid.” Jack tells him, voice rough with the need to restrain himself and he sees the cogs turning inside the kid’s head. Mac closes his eyes and nods. When he opens them again those baby blues have cleared up, only the vaguest hint of arousal remaining.

“Yeah, you’re right. Still…that line looks kind of tempting.” Mac says, a sparkle in his eyes and it’s clear that he’s teasing Jack even if there’s an element of truth to what he’s saying.

“From where I’m standing, crossing that line looks mighty tempting which is why I’m gonna say goodbye now. I wish you all the luck in the world, kid, but something tells me, with that big brain of yours, you’re not really gonna need it.” Jack allows himself one last caress, sliding his hand from Mac’s head over his face down to the birthmark that, in different circumstances, Jack would have happily spent hours exploring, before he withdraws, giving the kid the space he needs to turn around and open the door.

The last thing Jack sees of the kid for a good long while is his smile as he closes the door behind him.

Not that Jack knows that.

Yet.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first version of this chapter Mac and Jack were actually going to have sex but I thought that was a bit too out of character for Jack, even though he's been Duke Jacoby for a while. It wouldn't have been out of character for Mac, I think. That boy wouldn't know danger if it invited him to dinner.
> 
> On George Eads: Maybe it's just me but something about the whole drama just feels off to me?  
> First of all, the beginning of season three read like they'd found a compromise with Eads' apparent desire to spent more time with his family, similar to the deal Scott Caan has on 5-0.  
> Of course, there could have been some incident that led the producers to letting him out of his contract but that kind of leads me to my second point, namely, that the timeline just fits suspiciously well. He leaves and immediately goes to film that movie of his? Given that they're still filming in Jack's appartment and that Justin Hires hinted that he would be back, I'm pretty sure he's at least coming back for a guest appearance.  
> So that could be all right? But then there's the third point. Levy Tran. I love Levy Tran, Hill House anybody?, but I'm also given to understand that the general CBS audience is somewhat, let's call it in the older demographic. To me, her casting seems more like CBS wants to shout 'look, don't worry, we're not replacing him, really' and not 'this is the new Jack, now get used to it'. Also, the show has a somewhat shaky history with its female characters, doesn't it?  
> Lastly, no matter what happened with Thornton and Cage, CBS normally does announce it when a major character is set to leave a show never to return, so this silence around Eads' supposed exit has kind of had me suspicious from the beginning.  
> Of course, maybe I'm simply reading too much into the entire thing. I guess we'll have to wait and see. I'm ready to move into fanon if he does leave permanently at some point and write all the fix it fics I can. Hope some of you will follow me.  
> So, rambling over. Sorry about that but I needed to tell that to somebody and you've become my unfortunate audience. There'll be at least one more chapter but I have to rewatch 2x12 and 2x14 before writing that and with the semester ending and deadlines coming up that might take a bit. Also, if anyone is interested I'm purplecolouredglasses on tumblr.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working title: The chapter in which no one is an adult and Matty is not explaining this shit to Oversight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time: There was supposed to be smut in this chapter but no one cooperated and it grew long enough I just cut it off at a point I felt was natural.  
> On the plus side, you get an extra chapter and another one because [Nevcolleil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil) gave me an idea and I definitely have to add that.  
> For now, have some emotional porn instead.

Jack will never be sure why he doesn’t immediately recognize the kid when he meets him again in the Sandbox. Maybe it’s the shorter hair or the fact that the formerly lanky frame has filled out a bit.

Maybe it’s the look in Mac’s eyes; a look Jack recognizes all too well because he sees it every time he looks into a mirror.

The look has no place on the face of a kid that young but that’s what war does. It turns boys into soldiers who come home with nightmares and eyes that are too old for their faces. If they come home at all.

Jack _might_ be slightly jaded at this point.

Still, the point is, Jack doesn’t recognize the kid standing over his cot and messing with Jack’s gear and so Jack hits him in the face. The kid hits back.

Things go from there.

The moment Jack does remember that night in New Orleans a few short years ago and remembers those baby blue eyes in the face of a younger (less jaded) Angus MacGyver Jack kissed in front of a hotel is the moment Mac remembers Jack as well. Jack can see it in his eyes.

Except…he doesn’t, does he?

The kid remembers Duke Jacoby; he’s never even _met_ Jack Dalton.

This is also the moment when things kind of turn…sideways because neither of them even acknowledges that they’re a lot more familiar with each other than they should be. The only indicator that anything is amiss is a slight widening of Mac’s eyes and the chagrined look on Jack’s face that only lasts a second and then Jack becomes Dalton and Mac becomes anything _but_ Mac, Carl’s Junior is one of Jack’s more inspired choices, and that’s the way things stay for the next sixty four days. That’s the way things stay for the better part of a _decade_ – no one ever accused either of them of emotional maturity.

Then Duke Jacoby rears his ugly head again.

…

When Matty calls them in, the last thing Jack expects is to be confronted by a part of his past that he’d thought dead and buried eight years ago. It had taken him a long time to shake Jacoby after that mission and the last thing Jack wants is to be reminded of this particular op.

Never mind the fact that it’s essentially the beginning of his and Mac’s relationship even if no one besides them knows that little fact.

And Jack knows that Mac has questions. By now his partner has likely figured out that Duke Jacoby must have been a cover – a very extensive one, but he knows Mac. He sees the question in his partner’s eyes whenever Jack’s past with the CIA is brought up – sees it in the tilt of Mac’s head and the frown between his eyes.

Jack dreads the day when Mac finally asks those questions because it’s the day Jack fears he’s going to lose his partner. No one, not even someone as compassionate and kind as Angus MacGyver is going to want to continue working with a guy who nearly took advantage of his emotionally compromised and inebriated state eight years ago – never mind that Jack still hasn’t gotten over his attraction to his partner.

It’s gotten worse.

A lot worse.

Jack fears that particular titbit will be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. He’s sixteen years older than his partner and only barely past the burned-out shell of a man Mac met all those years ago in the Sandbox.

There’s no way their relationship will survive once Mac figures out how Jack feels about him.

When Matty tells them the name of that “notorious figure from the past”, Jack can see his partner’s double take in the corner of his eye but doesn’t dare turning around to actually look at Mac. Jack feels like the elaborate sand castle that their relationship has become is about to be swept away by the tide and he isn’t sure what it will look like after rebuilding.

If it can be rebuild at all.

The rest of the team look like Christmas and Easter have come at once. Bozer, bless his still innocent heart, isn’t quite as gleeful but Jack knows it’s going to take a while until Riley stops ribbing him about it. He doesn’t mind much. The familiar banter is a welcome distraction from the thoughts in Jack’s head.

They head off to New Orleans in the Phoenix jet and if Jack expects Mac to make use of the relative privacy to mention their encounter eight years ago, he’s sorely disappointed. Mac doesn’t say a thing.

Matty though…

Matty eyes them with undisguised suspicion, sensing that there’s something her agents are keeping from her. Jack knows that look; Jack has been a recipient of that look many, many times. It promises hellfire and damnation if one of them doesn’t ‘fess up before the end of the op.

It’s not going to be Jack.

It’s probably going to be Jack.

…

Matilda Webber is many things – an idiot is not one of them. Ever since she called them into the war room to discuss the Duke Jacoby problem, Mac and Jack have been unusually cagey. Their banter is still there, but it’s oddly stilted as if they’re just putting up a show for the audience. She resolves to confront them separately after the mission and while she knows that Jack expects it to be him, he’s been eyeing her with a very familiar panic in his eyes, she’s not above using Mac’s general state of exhaustion to get some answers. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind and if Matilda Webber has learned anything in her long career working for the government, it’s how to make the hard decisions. That’s what they pay her the big bucks for – well, the reasonably well-sized bucks, nobody does this job for the money.

And besides, she’s going to get a lot more out of Jack if she confronts him when he least expects it, so Blondie it is.

She finds him after debriefing, sitting in his preferred lab and looking forlornly at his bandaged hands. Matty takes a deep breath and hardens her heart. Somebody needs to do something about this situation and neither of her prime agents are emotionally mature enough to solve this on their own.

“Still here, Blondie? Where’s Dalton? I expected him to shadow you like an overgrown Labrador for at least the next few days.” Mac flinches at her voice and Matty tells herself that she’s going to make it up to him afterwards. There’s got to be some overpriced piece of lab equipment that he’d like to get his hands on.

“He’s…around. Still finishing his own debrief. Said he was going to drive me home after.” Mac answers, continuing to stare at his hands as if they hold the answers to the meaning of life and – who knows? Maybe to him, they do.

Matty sits down in the chair next to him and closes a hand around one of his wrists. She’s noticed, mostly through watching his interaction with the rest of the team, that Mac responds to physical contact either with rejection or an almost desperate longing that always makes her want to have a serious talk with Jim. Right now, Mac freezes and doesn’t look at her, but he also doesn’t shake her hand off, so Matty counts it as a win.

“What happened in New Orleans, Mac?” she asks, softly, and Mac looks at her like a deer in headlights, scrambling to answer her question.

“I don’t…you were there? I mean, you know what happened, Matty. We finished debrief an hour ago.” Sometimes Matty wonders how he can be this good of an operative but also a terrible liar at the same time.

“I don’t mean the mission, Mac. When I told the team about Duke Jacoby, you looked at Jack. You looked at Jack _before_ I showed you the image on screen. You already knew about this cover and I highly doubt it was Jack who told you about it because getting Jack to talk about Jacoby is like pulling teeth. Jack _hates_ that cover identity with a passion he usually reserves for Bruce Willis and all things Texas.”

Mac closes his eyes and leans into her, just slightly and Matty doubts he even notices.

“We met in 2009, just before I started basic.” Mac all but whispers the answer, almost a confession and that’s enough for her. She doesn’t need the details – she’ll get those out of Jack later – she just needed confirmation. Now it’s time to find Dalton, make sure Mac gets home and then she can think about what it all means and how they’re going to fix it and, most importantly, how they can fix it and keep it in-house.

She’s _not_ explaining this shit to Oversight.

…

Jack might have used his “wife” as a way to distract himself from the inevitable confrontation with Mac – he’s not proud of it. During the op, Mac alternatively looks at him as if he wants Jack to just shut up about Dawn/Dixie _whatever her name is_ already or as if he thinks Jack is more than just a few fries short of a happy meal – he might have a point – and could Jack _please_ stop referring to her as his wife now.

They have one – very short – conversation about the entire thing when they realise that the bar where the lady in question is hiding is the very same bar that they’d first met in eight years ago, because _of course_ it is.

The way Jack’s luck is going lately he expects an asteroid to fall from space and kill him any day now.

Riley tells them the name, but it’s the moment they’re standing in front of the door that things turn awkward.

 “Mac?” Jack grabs his partner’s arm, about to open the door.

“Jack?” Mac freezes and Jack can see that he’s barely breathing.

“We should probably talk about this at some point.” Jack says and lets out a relived sigh. There, first step done.

“Maybe after this is over and we’re back home? _Mrs. Jacoby_ is waiting for us, Jack.” Yeah, okay. Mac has a point and the way he emphasized the Mrs. Jacoby part does nothing to calm down Jack’s fears about how all of this is going to end, so he’s almost glad to get a bit of a reprieve.

Then Mac goes and drags Jack out of the fire _with his bare hands_ and Jack isn’t really sure what to do with that.

Matty finds him after debriefing and tells him to ”get Mac home and make sure he gets rest. If I find out he compromised his recovery because he was bored there will be consequences, Dalton. You hear me?” and yeah, Jack does as he’s told because there are few people scarier than Matilda Webber in that kind of mood.

Jack takes Mac home and tucks him into bed after helping him out of the day’s clothes. There’s nothing sexual about it. Mac is tired, sore and drugged to the gills. Jack knows he’ll spend the next few days, maybe weeks, making sure Mac takes his painkillers and doesn’t accidentally kill himself or blow up half the kitchen trying to make an omelette.

It’s happened before – the blowing up half the kitchen part that is.

“Jack?” Mac’s voice stops Jack at the bedroom door, drowsy and half-asleep already.

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m glad I got you out of the fire. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Mac tells him, painfully honest under the influence of the drugs and Jack’s heart skips a beat or two while he tries to say something in return but his voice seems to be frozen.

“Love you.” Mac mumbles, almost inaudible before his breathing evens out and Jack can tell he’s fallen asleep. He tries to tell himself that Mac didn’t know what he was saying, drugged up as he is, but all that’s left is an answer Mac doesn’t hear but that’s been in Jack’s heart for a long time now.

“I love you too, Mac.”

…

Jack spends the next few weeks in a weird kind of limbo that always follows missions where one of them gets seriously hurt. Jack’s feet heal a lot faster than Mac’s hands because, while Jack might have had contact with the coffin for longer, Mac grabbed the burning wood with _his bare hands_ and the resulting injuries are deeper and a lot more painful.

The team trades off shifts in helping Mac do all the things he would need his hands for, mostly Bozer and Jack, because Bozer lives in the same house and Matty has Riley run a thorough system check at the Phoenix, and if Jack wasn’t distracted by his partner’s situation he would have asked more questions about that. He’ll kick himself for that oversight when they’ll meet – well, _Oversight_ and find out just how compromised the Phoenix had been at one point but that’s a story for another day.

Jack’s also still waiting for Matty to confront him about New Orleans but nothing happens for two weeks and he thinks he’s probably safe when Matty tells him to wait a moment after they went through half a dozen evaluations of recently recruited agents.

(He doesn’t sleep with Dawn/Dixie. Jack is tempted but between his own emotional exhaustion and the looming conversation he knows he needs to have with Mac, it’s enough to stop him. She still robs him blind; he still doesn’t mind much.)

Jack really should have known better. Matilda Webber is an unparalleled master when it comes to the long game. Two weeks are _nothing_ to her.

“What’s up boss?" Jack asks her and the look on her face tells him everything he needs to know. Right now, Matty means business.

“Sit down, Dalton. We need to talk about Duke Jacoby.” Shit. Jack sits down and resigns himself to his fate.

“I thought Duke Jacoby is dead and buried, Matty. I remember you telling me that he was.” Jack tries but knows it’s ultimately futile.

“He is and I promise you he’s staying dead but what I want to know is what happened between Jacoby and Mac in 2009. What happened between _you_ and Mac in 2009?” Matty asks and it’s not really a question, Jack thinks. There’s one thing he’d like to know, though.

“How do you even know about that, Matty? I never disclosed that anywhere.”

Matty looks at him as if she’s seriously doubting his qualifications to work as an undercover operative right now and Jack is starting to doubt it himself because he used to be better at this.

Maybe the Phoenix _has_ made him soft.

“Don’t pretend to be stupid, Jack. We both know it’s not true. I asked Mac, he told me and before you go all overprotective Rottweiler on me Jack, that’s the _only_ thing I asked him. You, however, are going to tell me the rest.”

Jack looks at her and finds only resolve in her eyes. This is the kind of discussion they don’t have all that often anymore, the kind that could potentially make or break one of them.

“I honestly don’t know what you want me to say here, Matty. Mac and I only met once in New Orleans and that was before he even started basic. I don’t see how that’s still important now?” Jack tells her and tries to convince himself that it’s true. That that meeting eight years ago doesn’t define what they are now, no matter how much he might want it to.

“Did you sleep with him?” Matty asks in that take no prisoners, blunt approach of hers and Jack feels like he’s being attacked here but also kind of not – well, because he almost did, didn’t he?

“For God’s sake Matty, of course not. He was nineteen. That’s a line I would never cross. Come on, you know me better than that.”

“Yeah, Jack, I do. But I also know what that assignment cost you and what it cost you to leave Duke Jacoby behind. Tell me I’m not entirely wrong in thinking you at least considered it.”

Jack stays quiet because everything Matty just said is true in a way that hurts Jack to even think about. He’s been denying feeling anything more than brotherly friendship for the kid for so long now, it’s become second nature to him.

To have it out in the open like this…

Matty’s eyes soften and there’s compassion in her eyes now where Jack only found determination before. “I see how you look at him, sometimes. When you think no one notices. Maybe it’s time you two talked about this like adults. Because, Jack, Mac looks at you the same way when he thinks no one’s paying attention.” She smiles a sad smile. “It’s the way I used to look at Ethan, Jack.”

And that…that is coming dangerously close to things they don’t talk about; things that are too precious to be dragged out into the open like this.

Jack feels an almost painfully desperate hope in his heart, a hope he hadn’t been able to squash ever since Mac murmured a drowsy _love you_ in the dark of his bedroom.

“You think he feels the same way, huh?” He asks Matty, rueful grin on his face.

“I’m certain he does, Jack. Now go and talk to your partner. It’s time one of you finally starts acting like the adult you’re supposed to be.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked about this: The timeline actually fits perfectly. In 2x14 there's the scene where Matty tells the team about Jacoby and we get a brief view of the dossier on the screen. The op ended in 2009, that's the year when Mac joined the Army and honestly that's why I was inspired to write this fic in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which they talk. (Yeah, sure. Let's call this talking, shall we?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking one more after this and then I'll concentrate on finishing "my heart lay waiting".  
> Warning: please note the rating change. If you don't want to read the explicit stuff, stop at the second break.  
> On a personal note, I will answer to all of your comments, no matter what story but given the kind of anxiety riddled mess I am it usually takes me a while, so don't be surprised if you get a response to a comment you wrote months ago.  
> Also, I'm declaring it official, Mac has a hair pulling kink now.

Mac celebrates getting the use of his hands back by spending the day in the Phoenix labs, catching up on the projects he’s had to put on ice since returning from New Orleans. Jack complains about it for the entire time it takes them to walk the distance between medical and Mac’s favorite lab before he’s accosted by Matty because apparently Jack has about half a dozen trainee evaluations to complete and if he doesn’t hand them in by the end of the week _you’re doing milk runs to Antarctica for a month, Dalton. Don’t tell me we have no people in Antarctica, I will send some just to have a base for you to find if you don’t hurry your ass to the control room, don’t think I won’t_.

Needless to say, Jack hadn’t even tried to find an excuse this time and done as Matty told him to.

Having Jack and Matty busy doing something else, something away from him also gives Mac the breathing space he’s been desperate for over the last few days. He and Jack are stuck in the weird, we need to talk about this but neither of us really wants to start that conversation space. His partner had started hovering the moment they’d stepped off the plane in L.A. but every time Mac so much as hints at talking about New Orleans Jack gets that panicked look in his eyes that makes Mac back off every damn time.

Mac is getting emotional whiplash in the worst way and having Jack be somewhere else for a few hours is a relief he didn’t know he needed until Matty dragged his protesting partner away.

He’s trying not to think about their trip to New Orleans but finds that distracting himself with working on his projects only works for the first two hours. No matter what Mac does he can’t get the picture of Jack and Dawn out of his mind, how Jack seemed almost obsessed with her once they found out who she was.

Despite his inconvenient feelings for his partner Mac has never been prone to jealousy when it comes to Jack. If Jack’s happy then Mac is, too.

This time, though…

Maybe it was the odd feeling of déjà vu that haunted him the whole time they spent in the city but for the first time Mac had to fight the desire to tell a woman in Jack’s life to back off. It doesn’t help that Jack isn’t known for making the sensible choice when it comes to his more… _intimate_ partners and Mac fears that’s the case here as well (It doesn’t occur to him until much later that he himself is a primary example of this).

“Hey partner, ready to go home?” Jack appears in his space like he has every right to be there and Mac nearly drops the sample he’s holding.

“Damnit, Jack. Make some noise the next time, please?”

Jack smiles, oddly reserved. “Sorry, man. Now you know how I feel when you ninja your way around, but I’m serious…it’s way past closing time, Mac. Put that little…tube thingy away and get your stuff, we’re leaving.”

It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order; the kind of order Sergeant Dalton would have once given to Specialist MacGyver, and that is unusual enough that Mac doesn’t protest and does as Jack tells him to. When they leave the lab, Jack snatches the keys to the Jeep from him.

“Hey, Mac. Bozer home tonight?” Jack asks and Mac frowns at the odd question.

“No, he’s spending the night at Leanna’s, why?” he asks and Jack evades the question with none of the skills of a trained operative.

“Just askin’.”

…

The way home is filled with an awkward silence and Mac has no idea why. Something must have happened between Jack and Matty because Jack wasn’t this tense before she dragged him away. Jack pulls into the driveway and doesn’t get out of the car so Mac, fed up with having to interpret his partner’s moods, snatches his bag from the backseat and closes the door behind him none too gently.

It takes a few minutes for Jack to follow him inside and Mac has worked up quite a temper by the time Jack joins him in the living room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He all but yells at Jack who winces and looks like he’s about to face a firing squad. Mac doesn’t really care, though. He rarely gets this angry and he almost never raises his voice but this has been brewing for eight years and he’s about had it with Jack’s avoidance tactic.

“I don’t understand what you want from me, Jack. Ten years ago you looked ready to drag me up to my hotel room to and I quote “do unspeakable things to me” and then we meet again and you ignore every attempt to even _talk_ about it. I can understand that this was just a cover and that Duke Jacoby had to do things you never would but why can’t we at least acknowledge that it _happened?”_

Jack still doesn’t say anything but there’s something in his eyes that Mac has no idea how to read.

“And then we go back to New Orleans and all you talk about is your wife who, by the way, isn’t actually your wife, Jack. I know I said we should wait until the mission is over to talk but it’s been two weeks and you’re still evading every attempt I make to say something and I’m just…you know I’m terrible with emotions and I don’t really like talking about stuff like this but it’s been eight years and I…I just…,” Mac trails off because, without him noticing, he’s stepped close enough to Jack, it’s messing with his head. Mac focuses his gaze on his partner’s throat because he doesn’t want to see the look in Jack’s eyes right now but realises that might have been a mistake because Jack is wearing a shirt that exposes way too much skin for Mac’s sanity.

It’s either a symptom of how deeply in love with his partner Mac is that a glimpse of Jack’s collarbones has him panting like a teenager or an indicator of the sad state of Mac’s social life, possibly both, he doesn’t much care at the moment.

“Mac…,” Jack begins carefully and Mac doesn’t want to look up but Jack is nothing if persistent. Mirroring the move he’d made all those years ago, Jack pushes a hand into Mac’s hair and gently tilts his head up, keeping his fingers at the back of Mac’s neck, warm and comforting.

“I think I owe you one hell of an apology, darlin’ and I’m sorry it took me so long to recognize it,” Jack says, voice dark with something undefinable and Mac shivers, trying to tell himself it can’t possibly be _want_ that he sees in his partner’s eyes.

“What…what apology?” Mac’s voice is shaky but Jack just smiles at him, that quirk of a lip that’s almost invisible but still truer than most of Jack’s public smiles have ever been. It’s also oddly reminiscent of the way Duke Jacoby smiled at him and Mac begins to suspect that maybe he misinterpreted Jack’s silence all those years, maybe there was more Jack Dalton in Duke Jacoby than Jack would ever be comfortable to admit – at least when it comes to his interactions with Mac.

“I used Dawn to distract me from that talk we should have had a long time ago and I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have let this fester for so long. It’s just…when we met again, you were so goddamn smart and beautiful and you had this whole bright future ahead of you. You weren’t ever supposed to look at this old, washed-up spook the way you’re lookin’ at me right now. You think I don’t see that you always take your cue from me when it comes to our first meetin’? I made you fly blind Mac and you have no idea how sorry I am about that.”

“Then what…”

Jack takes a step closer and he’s well into Mac’s personal space now but Mac has never felt safer and if that doesn’t tell him everything he needs to know about his feelings for Jack, nothing will.

“Let me spell it out, Mac. No more misunderstandings – not about this. I love you. Was I tempted to take a nineteen year old kid up to his room ten years ago? Hell yeah I was and I might not wanna admit it, but not all of that was Jacoby, some of that was just me – plain old Jack Dalton and that scared the hell out of me…but you’re not that nineteen year old kid anymore and if you want this Mac, if you really want this then I’m more than ready to make good on that promise I made you then,” Jack says and Mac swallows, confused for a moment. Promise?  

_“There’s nothing I’d like more than to take you up to your room and do all kinds of unspeakable things to you but that’s a line even I’m not gonna cross, kid.”_

Oh…that promise.

“So we’re crossing that line then?” Mac asks and Jack grins the dirtiest grin he’s ever seen on his partner’s face.

“Hell yeah, we are.”

...

Mac closes the gap between them and kisses Jack with all the pent up tension from the last eight years. Jack meets him halfway and wraps an arm around his waist, walking him backwards to the nearest wall, another move almost mirroring their first kiss. Things grow heated quickly. Jack starts popping the buttons on Mac’s shirt while Mac tries to get at the skin hidden by Jack’s clothes. He manages to remove Jack’s belt and pushes his fingers under the waistband of his partner’s jeans. The angle is awkward, so he pushes Jack back and drops to his knees. He looks up and Jack’s eyes are nearly black with want.

“You sure about this, Mac?” Jack asks, pushing his finger back into Mac’s hair and Mac just smiles wickedly in response, pulling down the zipper on Jack’s jeans.

He draws out Jack’s cock, hard and flushed with arousal, and doesn’t waste much time, licking a stripe from the root to the tip while holding his partner’s gaze. When he closes his lips around the soft skin and pushes his head down on the shaft as far as he can Jack curses and tightens his fingers in Mac’s hair. Mac just moans in response and Jack’s cock slips a little deeper. It’s almost too much but he’s in that weird headspace where he’s entirely focused on what he’s doing and doesn’t pay much attention to anything else.

Jack does though and draws back until his cock slips out of Mac’s mouth.

“What?” Mac asks, confused and aroused and those are not feelings he’d thought himself capable of feeling at the same time but Jack is the exception to all of his rules apparently.

“Slow down, darlin’,” Jack says and urges Mac to get up. When he's upright, Jack traces his lips with his fingers and kisses Mac again and he imagines that Jack is tasting himself, chasing Mac’s tongue with his own and that thought has him pressing himself against Jack, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

“Easy, tiger’,” Jack rasps against his skin “how ‘bout we take this to the bedroom?” and that is the best idea Jack’s had today, possibly ever.

Mac tells him so.

Jack chuckles and pushes him towards Mac’s room. “That’s just ‘cause your standards are low, Mac.”

He barely avoids hitting something while stumbling backwards towards his bed. Jack doesn’t. He curses viciously and Mac laughs at him while he’s trying to wriggle out of his jeans. Jack glares and then the glare turns into the kind of heated look that sends shivers down Mac’s spine.

“Let me sweetheart,” Jack tells him and follows him down into the sheets, batting Mac’s hands away from his belt. “I waited years to unwrap you.” He grins at Mac and pushes his fingers into the space between Mac’s skin and the waistband of his jeans. Slowly, oh so slowly, Jack eases them down his legs, revealing the pale skin beneath. Jack’s tongue follows the path and lavishes each inch of revealed flesh with an attention to detail that leaves Mac nothing more than a quivering mess. When he’s completely naked, Jack carelessly throws the jeans away and just looks at Mac with an intensity that sears him like a flame.

“God, Mac. Do you have any idea how you look right now?” Jack asks, breathlessly and Mac thinks that he’s probably flushed all over and kind of a mess but Jack isn’t finished. “You’re beautiful and I know you’re not supposed to say that about a guy but that’s kind of bullshit anyway.” Jack wraps a gun calloused hand around Mac’s cock and just starts stroking the shaft and Mac’s last two brain cells wave a white flag and surrender to Jack’s merciless assault on Mac’s body.

Jack is still talking but Mac has lost the ability to understand anything he says. He’s spread out beneath Jack, fingers digging into Jack’s skin, utterly at his partner’s mercy and unable to articulate even one single thought. Jack speeds up his movements and Mac can feel the orgasm building but he needs that last push over the edge.

Jack seems to read his mind because he pushes two of his fingers into Mac’s mouth, the hand that isn’t slowly driving him insane, and he closes his lips around the fingers, trying to wet them with as much spit as he can. Jack withdraws the hand and Mac is pretty much done when he feels the fingers pushing between his thighs, scraping against his perineum. One last twist of Jack’s hand on his cock and Mac almost doesn’t feel Jack gently pushing a finger into the opening of his body before he comes all over the sheets and Jack’s hand.

“Like I said, beautiful.” Jack sounds almost in awe and Mac has no idea what to do about that except he kind of does.

“You haven’t…,” Mac starts and then realises that they’re going to need more than spit if he wants this to continue in any way. He’d also like to get his mouth back on Jack’s cock but suspects that he doesn’t have the energy or the coordination left to continue where Jack stopped him in the living room.

Jack quirks an eyebrow at him and Mac wonders how the hell his partner can still be this calm when he himself is nothing more than a quivering wreck of nerves right now, but then he notices the strain around Jack’s eyes and the way he holds himself rigidly above Mac and suspects that Jack is closer to the edge than he lets on.

“You got any idea about that, sweetheart? Because I don’t want to presume but I’d really like to be inside you when I come, if that’s something you might want…,” Jack trails off, sounding uncertain for the first time since they started this and Mac can’t have that.

He vaguely gestures at the nightstand and Jack, proving once more that he’s apparently able to read Mac’s mind now, pulls open the top drawer and finds the bottle of lube and the handful of condoms he keeps in there.

“Presume away,” Mac says lazily and Jack opens the bottle of lube, coating the fingers that had already been inside him with a generous amount before moving his hand back between Mac’s thighs. This time, Jack doesn’t bother with careful exploration, pushing one finger inside with intent. When Mac relaxes into the sensation, one finger becomes two and he starts to meet Jack’s thrusts with his body. His cock twitches and that should not be possible again this soon but Jack seems determined to break every single one of Mac’s expectations tonight.

“Fuck, Jack…come on,” Mac manages to grind out and then Jack adds a third finger and he forgets what he wanted to say in the first place.

When Jack is apparently satisfied that Mac’s prepared enough for the next part he withdraws his fingers and reaches for one of the foil wrappers he’d dropped onto the bed earlier. Under different circumstances Mac would very much like to help Jack with putting it on, but he’s been pretty much reduced to be a panting, exhausted but still incredibly aroused mess tonight. Jack moves away for a moment and he realises that Jack is still wearing his jeans. Not for long, though and Jack drops back onto the bed as soon as his jeans join Mac's on the floor.

Mac makes grabby hands at his partner as soon as Jack has finished pulling on the condom and Jack chuckles, obliging him without protest. Jack presses his body against Mac, glorious naked skin on display and he feels the head of Jack’s cock nudging at the opening of his body before pushing inside.

“Breathe, Mac,” Jack rumbles into his ear and he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been holding his breath. When Jack bottoms out, balls resting against Mac’s skin, they stay like that for a minute, just breathing and reveling in the feeling of being connected so intimately.

Jack doesn’t stay motionless for long, though, because the strain of holding himself back has finally caught up with him. He starts to withdraw and Mac can feel Jack’s cock dragging against the sensitive tissue and tightens his arms around Jack’s shoulders, fingers digging into the skin and that’s probably going to leave marks, he notices absently. He likes that, the thought of leaving marks on Jack’s skin, likes the thought of them leaving marks on each other.

Jack’s movements start slow and gentle but quickly increase in speed when Mac begins meeting him halfway. To his surprise, he feels his cock harden again with the repeated thrusts and Jack notices, too. He drops his weight on one arm, holding him above Mac, and wraps the now free hand around Mac’s flesh.

“Come on, baby. Can you come again, like this?” Jack asks and he answers something unintelligible but whatever Jack sees in his eyes must be enough because he starts stroking Mac, this time with the clear purpose of making him come as quickly as possible. And Mac does. He doesn’t know if it’s the way Jack is looking at him like a starving man, or if it’s Jack’s hand on his overstimulated skin, the feeling just this side of painful, but Mac comes a second time with a shout. Jack drops back down, just barely holding himself from crushing Mac beneath him and shoves into Mac’s body a few more times before he follows him over the edge.

“Fuck,” Mac says with the raspy voice of the well-fucked and Jack chuckles, withdrawing from Mac and dropping down next to him.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Jack says and Mac draws on every bit of strength he has left, turning to his side so he can look at the man he loves.

“Bears repeating, though.”

Jack turns to Mac as well and they should probably clean up but Mac can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed.

“Oh, it definitely does, darlin’. We’re gonna repeat this, don’t you worry.” Jack’s hand pushes into his hair again and Mac thinks drowsily that he really, really likes that – a lot. Jack gets rid of the condom and wraps an arm around Mac and the last thing he remembers is the feel of Jack’s breath, warm and sticky on his face, before he falls asleep, safe in the knowledge that his partner will be there when he wakes up.   

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...have some more porn? I don't know what to call this, porn squared maybe? This chapter was all [Nevcolleil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil)'s fault because she suggested writing a what could have happened of chapter one.  
> As always self-betaed, all mistakes are my own.

Being with Jack is…like nothing Mac has ever experienced before. He’s a young healthy twenty-something and Mac enjoys sex, no question, but he’s also prone to living in his head for long periods of time and in the past his partners haven’t always been the most understanding or the most accommodating when Mac spent weeks living in the lab with no thought left for romance.

And Mac’s libido has always been a fickle thing. He enjoys sex but sometimes there are other things Mac enjoys more and even his first relationship with a man, back when he and Jack first joined DXS, had ultimately been doomed to fail because of Mac’s tendency to put whatever he’s working on above everything else. He and Andrew had parted amicably but Mac still thinks that if even a DXS engineer couldn’t put up with Mac’s idiosyncrasies he shouldn’t expect anyone else to do so.

Except…Jack proves once again that he’s the exception to most of Mac’s rules.

Their first time had been passionate and intense and Mac wouldn’t change a single thing about that night but they’d both let themselves be swept away by years of pent-up tension and hadn’t really talked about anything beforehand.

So Jack makes him talk about things – a lot.

He doesn’t pressure Mac. Jack is nothing if not patient with him, defying his long-standing pretence of being bored easily. It reminds Mac of the first time he went to Texas with Jack and watched him work with a newly acquired mare, astonished at the change in his partner who wasn’t prone to long silences, but had spent days in the paddock with the horse just... _being_.

_“There’s a difference between breaking a horse and taming one, kid. Any trainer worth his name knows you can break a horse quickly but you’ll never have its trust. Trust takes time, sometimes more than you think it should…it’s not easy but it’s always the better way.”_

Now, Jack will ask him things, whisper questions in the dark of the night, over breakfast or when they’re cuddling in front of the TV, and Mac will think about the question and always, always Jack will tell him, “Just think about it, sweetheart, if that’s something you might wanna try,” voice gravelly in Mac’s ear.

And Mac _will_ think about it. He’ll think about it and, slowly but surely, Jack’s confidence in this – in them – will give Mac the confidence to start asking questions of his own.

Mac hasn’t had this much sex in years, if ever. He also never enjoyed it this much before. He’ll still spent days in the lab working when inspiration hits but Jack’s unique ability to slow him down and stop him from retreating too deeply into his own head makes all the difference in the world.

…

“You know,” Jack begins while wrapping a hand around Mac’s cock, “You ever wonder what could have happened all those years ago in that hotel room? I mean…if I hadn’t stopped, would you have let me take you up to your room?”

Mac needs a moment to catch his breath while Jack tries his best to wreck his composure with slow, careful strokes.

“Why…why the hell are you asking me that _now_ , Jack?” Mac asks annoyed and Jack chuckles in response.

“No reason. You never think of the possibilities?”

Thing is, Jack is nothing if not incredibly stubborn so Mac resigns himself to the fact that, yes, they are going to talk about this now.

“Dunno,” Mac answers honestly because he never actually thought about it much. He’d put that entire episode behind lock and key in his mind and only looked at it in his deepest darkest fantasies and never when Jack was anywhere close.

Of course, that was _before_ – before they got over themselves and actually did something about the mess of feelings they’d hoarded between the two of them.

So maybe it _was_ finally time to talk about it.

But… _timing_ , Jack.

“You’re going to have to remind me what happened, though,” Mac says impishly because if they’re going to do this now they’re going to do this right, dammit.

“Well, how about that, hm?” Jack says and nips right below Mac’s ear – one of his most sensitive spots. Mac curses.

“Alright…where do I start?”

...

_Jack grabs Mac, one arm around the waist, the other hand tangled in that messy blond hair and turns the somewhat clumsy attempt at a kiss into the kind of dirty, might have to jack off later kiss that Jack’s envisioned since the first time the kid blushed at something Jack said._

_He walks Mac back until the kid’s back hits the door. One of Jack’s thighs slips between Mac’s and he can feel the hardness there pressing against him._

_Jack wants nothing more than to take this beautiful boy up to his room and not let him leave until he has to leave New Orleans but there are a few lines he isn’t ready to cross, even though Duke Jacoby would have happily jumped over them with a dirty grin._

_..._

“It’s going to take a while if you’re going to narrate the foreplay, too,” Mac says. Normally, he’s a big fan of foreplay – they both are – but with how worked up he already is, this might actually kill him.

“Ah, but that’s the best part, Mac.” Jack looks at him, a shit eating grin on his face and wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re ridiculous,” Mac says and falls back into the sheets, arm thrown over his face, snickering into his elbow. If somebody had asked him months ago what he imagined sex with Jack to be like, he’d never expected to have this much _fun_.

But then, Jack always surprises him, even when Mac doesn’t think there’s anything left to surprise him _with_.

“You love it, baby,” Jack tells him, wrapping his fingers back around Mac’s cock and Mac’s laughter turns into a groan before he fully realises what happened.

“Sooo…where was I again?”

“You were telling me… _fuck_ …Jack come _on_ ,” Mac whines because he’s been on edge for a while now but Jack is nothing if not patient in this – in driving Mac _insane_.  

Jack withdraws his hand again and just lets it rest on the skin of Mac’s belly. Mac looks up at him and nearly melts at the loving expression on his partners face. Jack may occasionally be a bastard but in moments like this Mac is so incredibly thankful that he’s _Mac’s_ bastard, he still doesn’t quite know how to express the sentiment.

“You were telling me what you would have done if you’d taken me up to my room that night,” Mac finally manages to get out and Jack rewards him by gently starting to stroke Mac’s flesh again.

“Right…let’s see, where was I?”

...

_He almost withdraws from the kid but Mac’s hands just wrap themselves tighter around Jack’s shoulders, fingers digging into his leather jacket. Jack has to steady himself on the door or risk losing his balance._

_He tightens his grip in the kid’s hair and draws back enough to be able to look into Mac’s eyes._

_“You sure about this, kid?” Jack asks and fuck it if Mac’s eyes aren’t wide with arousal and a little fear. Jack almost stops the entire thing there and then but the sheer determination in those baby blue eyes keeps him rooted to the spot._

_Mac’s eyes narrow at him. “In a few days I’m going to start basic and in a year I might be dead. You really think I’d still be here if I wasn’t sure about this?”_

_Jack raises an eyebrow. “All I know is, few hours ago you weren’t even sure ‘bout the Army, so forgive me if I need a little reassurance. Last thing I wanna do is pressure you into something you ain’t ready for.”_

_“Fair enough,” Mac admits, “Am I nervous about this? Of course I am. I should probably tell you that I haven’t done this before…with a guy I mean.” His hands slide beneath Jack’s jacket, finding the skin between his shirt and the waistband of his jeans. Jack sucks in a breath when Mac’s fingers begin to idly stroke the skin._

_“I am sure, though. Very, very sure,” Mac says, wicked grin on his face and Jack likes that, the kid’s confidence in the face of something new and possibly frightening, likes it very, very much._

_“Good to know.”_

_..._

“Hey… _shit_ , Jack. Wait a moment.” Jack stops his movements, calloused fingers still wrapped around Mac’s cock.

“How the hell do you know I’d never been with a guy until that night? I’m pretty sure I haven’t told you about that.”

Surprisingly, Jack looks vaguely guilty at that question.

“Ah…wishful thinking on my part?” Jack admits sheepishly before actually registering what Mac just told him.

“Wait, so you really never…?”

“No, not until later,” Mac says and watches Jack’s smile turn into a dirty grin.

Jack starts to stroke Mac’s cock again, slow, deliberate movements that Mac thinks might just kill him while Jack lets the fingers of his other hand trail over the skin of Mac’s throat, lingering over his birthmark for a moment before wandering further south.

“So not just wishful thinking then.” Jack muses, adding a twist at the end of each stroke that leaves Mac breathless.

“No…God, Jack…definitely not.”

...

_The kid leads Jack up to his hotel room and by some miracle or divine intervention they make it there without knocking anything over and waking up the entire hotel in the process._

_Jack takes a moment to be grateful for the fact that the door locks haven’t been upgraded to some kind of fancy electronic mechanism because keys always work but Jack’s had some pretty epic failures trying to get into card-locked hotel rooms in the past._

_They stumble into Mac’s room which is fairly standard as far as hotel rooms go. Jack takes a moment to just look at the kid, flushed with arousal, and asks himself what he could have possibly done to deserve this._

_..._

“Hey, no. We talked about this remember? You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for, Jack.” Mac says – not for the first time. Jack’s willingness to believe the worst of himself while putting Mac on a pedestal has always been one of the most frustrating things about him as far as Mac is concerned.

He’s put a lot of energy into convincing Jack that he’s worth Mac’s love, that he’s worth everything, and he’ll continue to do so until either Jack starts believing it, too, or until they’re both dead – whatever comes first.  

Jack smiles at him, expression somewhere between adoring and bittersweet and kisses Mac. It’s a gentle thing, just a brush of his lips at first until Jack nips at Mac’s lower lip and Mac arches up to remind his partner that there’s something else he should be doing and could he please go back to it?

“Impatient,” Jack mumbles into his skin but still starts stroking Mac’s flesh again, though much slower than before.

“Ja- _ack._ ”

“What?” Jack asks innocently while leaving a trail of kisses down Mac’s chin, paying special attention to Mac’s birthmark before sucking a hickey into the skin just underneath.

Mac rolls his eyes. He’s going to have to put up with a lot of knowing grins from the team tomorrow.

“Possessive much?” Mac doesn’t have to look at Jack to know there’s a shit-eating grin on his partner’s face right now.

“You were telling me about New Orleans? The hotel room?” Mac isn’t really sure why but despite his almost desperate arousal he _really_ wants to hear the rest of Jack’s fantasy.

Maybe it’s _because_ of his arousal – the thought alone, that they could have gone much further ten years ago than they _did_ …yeah, it’s doing a lot for him right now.

Having Jack all but whisper it into his ear in that low-voiced, gravelly Texan drawl of his is just the icing on the cake, really.

“Alright then.”

...

_It isn’t long before Jack has the kid spread out beneath him, pale skin gleaming in the moonlight, having lost his shirt and belt somewhere between the door and the bed. Jack is almost afraid to touch him, to taint that unblemished soul with his own darkness but Mac smiles at him as if Jack is everything he’s ever wanted and Jack’s last shred of resistance doesn’t hold up long under that smile._

_He’s never had a chance didn’t he?_

_Jack puts his hands back on all that glorious naked skin, exploring every inch with a determination he normally reserves for planning a difficult op. His lips follow the path of his fingers, he grins into Mac’s skin when a particular sensitive spot draws a hiss from the boy and marks the spot down for further exploration._

_Jack spends a significant amount of time lavishing the birthmark with his tongue and teeth, leaving Mac a shaking mess, by the time Jack licks a broad stripe across a nipple the kid is all but incoherent._

_“Pl…please.”_

_Jack stops and looks up, taking in the expression on Mac’s face. He looks like a wild thing, eyes glassy with arousal and pupils blown wide. He looks like a fae or maybe a wood sprite, like the ones his nana told him about, beautiful and ethereal, luring innocent travellers to their doom._

_Jack’s definitely been lured._

_“Please what?” Jack asks and watches as the kid struggles to find his words._

_“Please, just…everything.” Mac whispers into the dark and Jack can do that, he can definitely do that._

_“You still want me to…? Jack asks because he needs to be sure that this is what the kid wants. If he’s going to allow himself to cross this line tonight then Jack needs to hear Mac say it._

_“Yeah. I still want you to, Duke,” Mac answers and the reminder that Mac doesn’t really know who he is sends a sharp pang though Jack but it’s not enough to stop him tonight._

_Jack works his fingers beneath the waistband of Mac’s jeans and pulls them down his legs, Mac’s erection springing free. The kid wiggles a bit and after a last tug Jack drops the jeans somewhere next to the bed, entirely focused on all the newly revealed skin._

_Mac smiles almost shyly and Jack can see the silent question in his eyes, making him want to go after whoever’s responsible for that insecurity because Mac has nothing to be ashamed of._

_He’s beautiful and Jack thinks he might have died and gone to heaven – even though he’s pretty sure that’s not where he’s ultimately going to end up._

_“Duke?” Mac releases the sheets he’s been gripping tightly, his fingers turning almost white, and motions in the direction of the nightstand._

_“Top drawer,” he says breathlessly and Jack follows his direction, finding a surprising treasure trove of supplies. He takes a bottle of lube and a foil wrapper and drops them next to Mac’s head, eyebrow raised in a silent question._

_Mac blushes…all over._

_It’s doing things to Jack’s libido that he hadn’t thought possible anymore once he passed thirty._

_“Frankie,” Mac whispers, embarrassed. “She told me I needed to get laid…didn’t actually plan on doing that, but…”_

_“Convenient.” Jack grins and silently thanks whoever this Frankie is because Jack sure hadn’t spent a thought on supplies and that would have ended this night much more quickly than Jack wants it to._

_..._

“We could work around that – we _have_ worked around that,” Mac tells him, last word turning into a long drawn out moan as Jack wraps his lips around Mac’s erection. Jack doesn’t answer him, just hums around Mac’s flesh and he nearly comes on the spot, barely managing to hold himself back.

He wants Jack inside him when that happens, even though his partner seems determined to tear through all of Mac’s resolve tonight.

Jack starts bobbing his head, deep-throating Mac with all the experience of his forty three years and Mac’s brain whites out.

“You alright there, darlin’?” Jack’s voice is rough as he lets Mac’s cock slip free and Mac needs a moment to gather his thoughts and come up with a coherent answer.

“I’m, just… _bastard_.” Not that coherent then.

“I can be,” Jack says, abandoning Mac’s cock to go back to kissing him. Before Mac has time to adjust to the change in position he feels a slick finger circling his entrance and wonders when Jack had the time to get the lube because Mac definitely didn’t notice. The finger presses inside just as Jack’s tongue seeks permission at his lips and the dual sensation sends his mind spinning.

Jack works him open so carefully it leaves him breathless again but when he moves to grab a condom Mac stops him with a hand on his arm.

“We’re both clean and the sheets need washing anyway. I just…I want to feel you.” Mac smiles hesitantly.

“You sure, sweetheart?” Jack swallows heavily and Mac gives into the urge to press a kiss to Jack’s mouth, just a dry press of his lips but Jack smiles at him as if Mac is the most important thing in the world.

“I’m sure.”

Jack moves back between Mac’s thighs and he can feel the head of his partner’s erection nudging at his entrance.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Mac.” Jack presses forward, one long steady slide until he’s as deep as he can, head resting against Mac’s shoulder.

Mac smiles.

“What happened then?” He whispers into Jack’s ear and Jack groans, the sound somewhere between aroused and exasperated. Mac is pretty sure that tone of voice is exclusively reserved for him.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me? Man…you’re gonna be the death of me, Mac.”

He continues anyway.

...

_The kid smiles hesitantly and Jack can’t help himself but kiss him again to catch that smile with his lips. They’re content exploring each other’s mouths for a while and Mac’s initial hesitation has long since given way to an unbridled enthusiasm that leaves Jack speechless and desperate for more, but there’s one thing he still has to do before they can carry this any further._

_“What?” Mac asks confused when Jack draws back and moves to stand up but that confusion quickly turns into curiosity and – most importantly – appreciation when Jack starts removing his own clothes._

_Jack notices the kid staring and quirks an eyebrow, grinning wolfishly while pushing Mac back into the covers, finally feeling all of that beautiful naked skin against his own._

_“Like what you see?” Jack asks and Mac blushes again._

_“Yeah, definitely.”_

_Jack grabs the bottle of lube and pops the cap, the sound almost deafening in the room. He coats his fingers in the gooey liquid and pushes his other hand back into Mac’s hair, making sure the kid’s eyes are focused on him._

_“Hey, we can stop this anytime, alright? Just say the word,” Jack reassures him but Mac determinedly shakes his head and grabs Jack’s hand, guiding it between his legs._

_“No stopping.”_

_Jack smiles shakily. “All right then.”_

_His fingers find the entrance to Mac’s body and Jack carefully traces it before pushing in a finger, looking for any kind of discomfort in Mac’s eyes but there’s only arousal and a trust that Jack’s pretty sure he isn’t worthy of. When Mac relaxes into the sensation, he adds a second finger but stops when the kid goes tense beneath him._

_“Still okay?”_

_Mac closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Jack almost withdraws his fingers but doesn’t when those baby blues open again._

_“Okay…just surprised, is all.” Mac grins and arches up, pushing Jack’s fingers deeper._

_“Come on, please.” Well, who is Jack to deny him?_

_He starts moving his fingers, eyes still on Mac’s, still watching for the slightest hint of discomfort. Mac meets his movements with a breathless laugh that turns into a surprised moan when Jack hits his prostate._

_“Fuck, that’s…” Jack slips in a third finger while Mac is distracted by the new sensation and proceeds to take the kid apart using only his fingers, his eyes never leaving Mac’s._

_..._

Jack stops suddenly and turns them around in a move quickly enough Mac doesn’t notice until Jack’s scooted back, resting against the headboard and Mac’s sitting in his lap.

“What the…Jack?”

Jack grabs his hips in a grip that’s just this side of painful but somehow just right and puts his mouth to Mac’s ear.

“If you want me to continue tellin’ you all about that night, how ‘bout you do the work tonight,” Jack rumbles.

Jack trusts up once and Mac meets him halfway, the new angle feels deeper, more intimate than before and he starts to move with Jack until he’s the one riding Jack’s cock.

One hand comes up, gripping Mac’s neck, fingers massaging the skin and Jack lets his tongue trace the sensitive shell of Mac’s ear before continuing.

...

_Jack withdraws his fingers and wipes them on the bedspread then takes the foil wrapped condom._

_“You still alright?” He asks again, needing to be sure before they take the final step._

_“Yeah I’m…,” Mac swallows and nods, stubborn determination in his eyes._

_”I’m good.”_

_Jack removes the condom and puts in on before dropping back between Mac’s thighs. The kid smiles hesitantly, a little unsure maybe but grips Jack’s shoulders tightly and presses his mouth back to Jack’s._

_Jack obliges gladly and the kiss leaves both of them breathless. Before doubt can creep up on him again, Jack guides himself to the entrance of Mac’s body and slowly pushes inside, still watching for any sign of discomfort or pain in the kid’s eyes but Mac just bites his lips and wraps his legs around Jack, arching up to meet him halfway._

_“Hey, hey…easy there, sweetheart. We’ll get there soon enough,” Jack cautions him just as he bottoms out. He uses the hand not holding him up to push Mac’s slightly too long bangs out of his face._

_He still isn’t sure how he got this lucky but he’s stopped questioning it for now, every bit of attention focused on pleasuring the beautiful boy beneath him._

_Everything else can come tomorrow._

_“Can you…maybe move?” Mac all but whines. Jack chuckles roughly and does exactly that. He starts moving slowly, carefully gauging the kid’s reactions but soon enough Mac grows impatient – the energy of youth – and Jack increases the speed until each thrust shoves Mac a little higher on the bed._

_If Jack still had a brain cell left, he might have slowed down, gentled his thrusts a little so the kid wouldn’t be too sore tomorrow but Mac meets him with all the enthusiasm of his age and then some._

_“Please...I’m, I’m close.” Before Jack can wrap his hands around Mac’s flesh to help him along, Mac tightens his arms around Jack and his body tightens around Jack’s and he spills himself between their bodies, come warm and sticky on Jack’s skin. It takes only a few more thrusts and Jack follows him over the edge, falling into Mac’s mesmerizing gaze as he spills himself into his body._

...    

“Fuck… _Jack_.” Mac is still bouncing himself on Jack’s cock, desperate now while Jack tells him what might have been.

“That’s the idea, darlin’,” Jack answers, chuckling roughly. Mac stutters, his movements growing erratic but Jack catches him – as always – and starts meeting Mac’s movements again, fingers still gripping Mac tightly.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Jack is holding him nearly immobile now and wraps the hand that was at Mac’s hip around his cock. It doesn’t take long – a few strokes just shy of too tight around Mac’s flesh and he comes with a shout, Jack following right behind, forehead pressed against Mac’s, fingers still gripping his neck.

Jack slumps back against the headboard, like a marionette with its strings cut and Mac snorts at that thought, riding the endorphin high as he is. He drops his head to Jack’s shoulder and giggles helplessly feeling Jack’s chest move with breathless laughter of his own.

“Man, what’s so funny, Mac?” Jack asks, still chuckling.

Mac grins into Jack’s skin.

“Nothing, just…I’m really happy right now, Jack.” He looks up at his partner, the adoring look back in Jack’s eyes and Mac just _can’t_.

Is it possible to burst with this much happiness?

“Happy, eh?”

“Yeah, happy.”

  

 

   

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     


End file.
